


It’s Not about Violence

by KliqzAngel



Series: Make Me Want You.  Want You to Make Me. [6]
Category: Leverage RPF, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Abuse disguised as BDSM, Angst, BDSM, Dark fic, Dom!Jared, Dom/sub, M/M, Referenced Dark Violent Sex (Non-explicit), Self Destructive Tendancies, Self-Hatred, Sub!Christian, The feels, it makes me cry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-16
Updated: 2016-02-16
Packaged: 2018-05-20 22:53:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6028488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KliqzAngel/pseuds/KliqzAngel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Beat</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It's hard to get up from the bottom when you believe that you belong there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It’s Not about Violence

**Author's Note:**

> This series will be darker than what I usually write. All but one story came out in first person POV, which I don’t write much so I hope it came out alright. This is for an old prompt challenge over at Jared Chris on Livejournal.
> 
> This was written by someone (me) without experience in this type of relationship. I did do research, and speak with friends who do have experience in this world. I tried my best to be true to this type of relationship and not get too far out over my skis. I do understand abuse and BDSM are NOT the same thing. I tried very hard to make sure that while both are discussed in this series along with self destructive tendencies, that there was a difference.
> 
> Please no throwing stones. I won't enjoy it, and the series is old enough it won't change anything.

It used to be so easy to get what I need before he came into my life and educated me. Before he came and taught me what it was I really need. It used to be so easy to convince the random faceless partner to add in a slap here, a spank there, painting it as a little extra added excitement, pretending that was enough.

It used to be easy to get from him what I need before I went and threw it all away, before I let that other me take what it is I need so bad. It used to be easy and now it’s hard. It’s so hard to get what I really need. There are so many that aren’t like him, but pretend they are. There are so many that think they understand, but they don’t. There are so many that are willing to try, that think violence is the answer. They beat me ‘til I am raw. They bruise and bleed and break and then leave. They leave me to take care of myself. As if I know how. As if I wouldn’t need them if I knew how to do that. As if I wouldn’t have needed him if I knew how. 

It used to be easy and now it’s hard and I am pretty sure am never going to get any of it back again. 

I wince and cry out which only earns me more as he strikes and breaks and screams. Every second that goes by reinforces what I already know. He isn’t Jared. They aren’t Jared. Jared isn’t replaceable. Jared isn’t something I will move on from or get over and his lose is not something I am going to survive.

Lying in my bed I seek that strip of leather in my sleep until I wake up with scratches on my neck and sometimes blood under my fingernails. Where there was arrogance there is now only defeat. Where there was anger there is now only anguish. Where there was love there is now only loss. Where there was him and us there is now only I and me. I need him.

The thing is people are starting to notice. Aldis, Beth, even Timothy notices the difference I think. I’m always sore, and bruised, and in an unending stage of recovery that never really starts because the infliction of the hurt won’t end unless I get him back. 

 

But getting Jared back won’t happen. I know that. I understand that. I just can’t accept that because if it’s true I may as well die today, right here, right now. I can be one of those freak on-set deaths that people will whisper about for years citing conspiracies and myth. 

There’s one small ounce of hope though that keeps me going. That belief in that small part of me that is really me that trusts him to know when I am ready to accept him back, ready to accept for real this time. Until he does, until he knows, I just continue my cycle. I scratch and claw my way through my day hoping to just be able to fool everyone enough for one more day, that I don’t lose this too. I’m not sure it’ll last much longer though. I’m not sure if something doesn’t happen that there will be no more Elliot next season.

I can’t stop though. It’s almost a sickness now. It’s almost an obsession now. It’s become my own personal penance, my self imposed prison until I deem myself good enough again, until I know that I can accept I can’t keep the dark away on my own again. 

I am broken.

I am defeated.

I am beat.

Jared, please save me for without you I am lost.

The End

**Author's Note:**

> This is one of several older fics that I have decided to post to AO3. They've resided for years on my personal archive, but I am thinking of getting rid of it. I want to make sure some of them are posted here. So, if you think you read this or some others I am posting over the next few days somewhere before... you probably have. They were also posted on LiveJournal.


End file.
